Tales From The Old Bald One-Eyed Salty Red Dog Tavern! (chapter 1, now closed)

[Lazlow]

Confrontation!!!

Seeing both the hard-boiled Sheriff with the shiny badge (and the large sword on his hip) and the large warrior behind him in the fearsome wolf-headed helmet (smoke emanating from the nostrils, and a faint red glow deep inside) brings the entire front row of the crowd to an abrupt halt. The rest of the crowd behind bump and jostle into each other as they stop. Confused murmurs and frustrated shouts from the back arise but die off quickly as they see what exactly it is that has stopped them.

"Speak up! What's all this about?"

The people in front wear menacing scowls of confusion and they all begin to speak at once. Finally one of the larger men further back yells at everyone to shut up - and they do. Immediately. He pushes his way through the crowd and stands before the Sheriff, at least a full six inches taller and several more wider (especially 'round the waist). Sizing up Bill, he scrutinizes the badge with a quizzical look and then peers over his shoulder at the fully-armored warrior behind. Finally looks the lawman dead in the eyes and speaks.

"Never 'eard o' no... Sheriff... 'Round 'ere," he says in a soft, high whisper that completely belies his brutish exterior. He straightens up to his full height, folds his arms in front of his chest, glares down the entire length of his crooked nose at the Sheriff and grunts. The crowd behind him erupts in a sneering, derisive cheer. Snorts, guffaws, and kneeslaps join hoots of "You tell 'im, Squeaky!", "You've got 'im now, Squeaks!", and "Can't argue wi' that, Squeaky!" After a moment or two of this the large man calmly raises his hand and the crowd quietens immediately.

 

[Gray Shade]

"Well, I never heard o' you, neither . . . Squeaky." Berserker Bill says and unbuttons the safety on his scabbard. "But that don't mean I don't have authority over you. Now, I'm not one to jump to conclusions, but you're looking at a passle o' my deputies with hungry eyes, and I just got a intuition that you're looking for trouble. I don't take kindly to that. We're all here to do a job that will make your lives easier, which I'm sure you and your cohorts there will appreciate. There's no reason to go stirring up any trouble when these fine representatives of the Duke," here he sweeps an arm over at his like-garmented associates, busily debating what to do with the bodies of the men (muggers, really) they just killed. "Surely your dispute can be settled by you telling me your problem and then me telling you it's settled and you going back about your business. Or, better yet, since we're in a hurry to save your butts from you-don't-even-know-what, you can just go back about your business immediately." Berserker Bill steps a little closer to Squeaky to intimidate, if not him, then the rest of the crowd. "Post-haste, before you go from Squeaky to Bleedy."

 

[Lazlow]

"Authority?" Squeaky squeaks at Sheriff Bill. "Authority? Ain't no one 'round 'ere with authority, my fine fellow, 'cept... Papa Gumbo." He empasizes the name by jabbing a pudgy finger into the Sheriff's chest.

"Now stand aside, or... You'll, uh... Have no side to stand to." He brings his nose mere millimeters from the Sheriff's face.

 

[Ranger Rick]

Desert sees a sail come across the horizion and sits down to watch it billow in the wind.

OOC: I am offline till Monday. But still use Desert as you see fit.

 

[Wystan]

[sblock]If I see the commotion with the sheriff, and I assume I do, then the following occurs:

I walk towards the sheriff, look at the big fat man in the eyes and state the following:

"I just finished cleaning up the docks of the dregs that decided to accost registered Deputies. I would hate to deprive this fine town of the rest of the riff-raff that need to be cleaned up. I am sure that the majority of the fine folks following you have no qualms with us and seem to be intent on damage for no other reason than the fact that they are following you."

I turn to face the crowd

"I realize that a lot of you folks must have families and homes that need to be taken care of. Now think how hard that would be with ventilation holes coming out of you. I am a master swordsman and will be more than willing to fillet the lot of you if even one of you tries to be forward in their steps and backward in their thinking. In case you did not notice, my friends and I were more than able to wipe that crowd of sailor trash off the docks and we did so with little loss of blood on our side, and not even breathing heavy."

I then gesture at the outfitted deputies

"As you might also notice, we are armed to the teeth and have arcane magics at our command. Not I know there are a lot of you who are not afraid to die, but are there any of you who migh be afraid to die if you thought that your god would decline you entrance to your chosen paradise? Are you so sure that the arcane magics that we wield would not strip your soul and cause you to fail in the eyes of your god. My god would be more than willing to accept you into the torture plane that he has set up for those that are stupid enough to follow a leader that needs a large lot of otherwise intelligent peoples to do his work. And I quote the book of Argle-Bargle chapter 745 verse 12 'the masses that seek to destroy as the weapon of a fool will be cast into the lake of biting ants for all eternity and shall have their souls denied access to paradise.' Are you willing to test this?"

[/sblock]

 

[Gray Shade]

Berserker Bill grabs Squeaky's finger and breaks it. As he does so, he says, "I am getting so tired of you stupid yokels purposefully getting in my way." If possible, he continues to bend Squeaky's hand and fingers to bring him to his knees. He continues to talk while doing so, "I'm trying to do a job here that's not going to cause any of you any harm, and is, in fact, going to help out, and every direction I turn someone is in my way. Can't a guy just go on a freaking quest around here without . . ." he lets go of Squeaky and finishes, " . . . you know . . ." He puts his hand on his sword. "Trouble."

 

[Lazlow]

Ranti walks towards the sheriff, looks the big fat man in the eyes and states:

"I just finished cleaning up the docks of the dregs that decided to accost registered Deputies. I would hate to deprive this fine town of the rest of the riff-raff that need to be cleaned up. I am sure that the majority of the fine folks following you have no qualms with us and seem to be intent on damage for no other reason than the fact that they are following you."

He turns to face the crowd, who, for the most part, stands stock still in utter amazement at the loquacity of this elf.

"I realize that a lot of you folks must have families and homes that need to be taken care of. Now think how hard that would be with ventilation holes coming out of you. I am a master swordsman and will be more than willing to fillet the lot of you if even one of you tries to be forward in their steps and backward in their thinking. In case you did not notice, my friends and I were more than able to wipe that crowd of sailor trash off the docks and we did so with little loss of blood on our side, and not even breathing heavy."

Still holding the crowd at rapt attention, he then gestures at the outfitted deputies.

"As you might also notice, we are armed to the teeth and have arcane magics at our command. Not I know there are a lot of you who are not afraid to die, but are there any of you who migh be afraid to die if you thought that your god would decline you entrance to your chosen paradise? Are you so sure that the arcane magics that we wield would not strip your soul and cause you to fail in the eyes of your god. My god would be more than willing to accept you into the torture plane that he has set up for those that are stupid enough to follow a leader that needs a large lot of otherwise intelligent peoples to do his work. And I quote the book of Argle-Bargle chapter 745 verse 12 'the masses that seek to destroy as the weapon of a fool will be cast into the lake of biting ants for all eter-"

Suddenly his recitation of the holy writ of Argle-Bargle is cut short by a sharp "Bugger off, ya pansy", and, more importantly, a large, mostly rotten vegetable, most likely of the squash family. It misses Ranti by barely an inch, but the insides spew forth most yuckily, tainting his boots and pants.

In the split second of utter quiet that follows, Berserker Bill grabs Squeaky's finger and breaks it.

"I am getting so tired of you stupid yokels purposefully getting in my way."

He continues to bend Squeaky's hand and fingers, bringing him to his knees. "I'm trying to do a job here that's not going to cause any of you any harm, and is, in fact, going to help out, and every direction I turn someone is in my way. Can't a guy just go on a freaking quest around here without . . ." he lets go of Squeaky and finishes, " . . . you know . . ." He puts his hand on his sword. "Trouble."

 

[Gray Shade]

Berserker Bill snaps his head up and looks out into the crowd, trying to find the one who threw the squash. "Who threw that? Don't you throw your crap at our elf! What's wrong with you?" He clucks his tongue and bats at the crap on Ranti's leg. Under his breath he mutters, "and they call ME the Barbarian." Standing back at his fully average height, he gives a mean look at the crowd and shoos at them with is hands. "Shoo! Go on. Get back to your homes. This is your last warning to disperse this illegal gathering with intent to lynch. If you persist in your defiance in the face of hitherto passive legal enforcement, you will be battered about the head, neck and kidney with no guarantee of, or thought given to, your survival."

 

[LogicsFate]

"Well," the commoner replies flatly, "we may be apathetic (and none more so than I), but we aren't a town of - of... What do you call those creepy people... Death Mages? Raisers of Undead? What is that name... Er..." He pauses a while, lost in thought. He looks around, trying to remember that name, and glances back at you. Suddenly pipes up: "Ah! Necromancers. Yes. That's it." He resumes his previous scolding tone. "We aren't a town of Necromancers, you know." He turns and walks off, shaking his head.

[sblock]"Probably be better for it, bloody apathetic..."[/sblock] K mumbles

Looking to the elf, K unhappily says "No, I'll be fine, I'll wrap this up soon"

Wench

K's whole body twitches and she looks to the ground talking softly at first, her words swallowed up in Ranti's grandiose speech

Who called me wench?
and again
Who called me wench?
overlapped by Bill's words
Who called me wench?
For all the world to hear
Who called me wench?

 

[Lazlow]

As the Sheriff shoos the crowd, it seems that the wind has been taken out of their sails. If the Sheriff could take Squeaky down so easily, they collectively think, what else could this group do?

Who called me wench?!

And that dude in the armor, he's just standing there... You just know he's gonna do something bad@$$, I mean, just... Just LOOK at him!!

Who called me wench?!?!?

Er... Isn't that the one that took down Dockside Dan...? Uh oh...

What is that business about 'hell hath no fury' and all? Well, evidently the crowd has heard of it, because suddenly and with astoundingly peaceful efficiency, the crowd disperses in an instant. All, that is, save for one scrawny looking individual who suddenly feels very, very alone.

"Er... <gulp> giggity?"